


Near Fantastica

by canistakahari



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Implied Oral Sex, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M, implied cunnilingus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 13:07:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1107210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canistakahari/pseuds/canistakahari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Allison and Scott begin their Christmas preparations, they get the impression Derek's not a fan of the holidays.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Near Fantastica

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starsandgraces](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsandgraces/gifts).



> This was a Christmas present for starsandgraces, and it's part of an AU we dabble in that involves werewolves subjugated and collared by humans. Allison and Scott have a very different relationship than most. When Kate dies, Allison inherits Derek, and it takes a long time for trust to be built up between them as he recovers. 
> 
> Everything between the three of them is consensual.

“I don’t think Derek likes Christmas,” says Scott, a few days into December.

 

They’ve spent the morning getting boxes from the attic, Allison passing them down to Scott on the stepladder. Derek had lurked in the hallway for a little while, watching them curiously, before disappearing at the first glimpse of the words “CHRISTMAS DECORATIONS” sharpie’d on the cardboard.

 

Last week, Allison had climbed the roof to check and change bulbs on the string of Christmas lights that she left up year round, and since then, Derek had been little more than a shadow in the house, quieter than usual, which was saying something. 

 

 _Subdued_ , muses Allison.

 

To be honest,  _absent_  might be a better descriptor. He’d have to be  _around_ to talk, and instead, he simply refused to go outside, his jaw tense, and spent his time curled on the couch, hiding in bed, or ghosting through the other rooms in the house to avoid the encroaching Christmas cheer.

 

“Maybe we just... shouldn’t decorate,” says Allison, biting her lip, pausing in the act of opening a box.

 

Scott’s brow scrunches and the disappointment is clear on his face. "Oh."

 

“No, I know,” she sighs, blowing air through her nose. “I need to talk to him.”

 

 oOo

 

She finds Derek huddled in his room, reading a book in bed, half buried by blankets. Like Scott, he doesn’t seem to feel the cold but he still covets warmth; ever since the temperature started dropping, he’s  filled out big sweaters and soft sweats and sleep pants, curling his body into the many blankets and throws Allison kept in each room. Now, he’s lying on his belly and propped on his elbows, a pillow cushioning his chin as he reads.

 

Allison just crosses her arms over her chest and leans against the doorway, watching him. For a little while, she thinks he might ignore her, and then his eyelashes flicker and he tilts his head, baring his neck to her, and she sighs and comes inside, settling down next to him.

 

“You’re like a space heater,” she murmurs, leaning against his shoulder. “Why do I even pay for gas?”

 

Derek rumbles, his eyes closing as Allison pushes her fingers into his hair and scritches gently at his scalp.

 

“We don’t have to put up a tree or anything,” she says, after a moment. “If you don’t want.”

 

Derek tenses up immediately, the pliant press of his warm body next to hers stiffening. “You don’t have to do that,” he says, voice tight.

 

“I know,” says Allison patiently. “But I’m still offering.”

 

Derek seems to consider it, his throat bobbing as he swallows. Allison almost can’t stand how unbearably sweet he looks, laid out like this, vulnerable and sleepy, his head angled just enough to the side that he’s keeping his throat exposed to her. “No,” he says. “I don’t want that.”

 

“Then what is it? What’s bothering you?” she coaxes.

 

“Laura,” he says finally, his voice thick. “Laura really liked Christmas.”

 

“Okay,” says Allison softly, bending to kiss his hair. “Got it.”

 

 oOo

 

Between the two of them, Allison and Scott finish decorating the house, and because Derek won’t come out, they go shopping without him. 

 

At the mall, they puzzle over what to get for him, deciding on simple wants and needs: cosy socks, a soft, plain sweater, a couple of novels (one of which is a tacky supernatural werewolf-themed romance novel that Scott wants to see Derek read because he can just picture the furrow Derek will get between his eyebrows). Some hair gel. Chocolate.

 

Allison lets Scott disappear by himself for an hour, so he can pick up whatever it is he’s getting for her, and she takes advantage of the time alone to find something special for him.

 

Although Derek doesn’t seem to want to go anywhere public during the hectic crush of the holiday season, he seems to finally relax a bit at home, spending more time in the living room. He ends up in Allison and Scott’s bed almost every night, though, sometimes just for cuddles, sometimes for more.

 

His muscles get looser, his manner easier. Every so often, he gives them a rare flash of a smile.

 

And on Christmas Eve, when the clock turns to midnight, Derek turns his face into the bare curve of Allison’s shoulder and murmurs, “I didn’t get you anything. Either of you.”

 

Scott huffs. “You didn’t have to!”

 

“But I wanted to,” protests Derek. “I thought about it.”

 

They’re all naked under the covers, Scott and Allison sandwiched around Derek. She cups his cheek. Wants to say, “You’re more than enough,” but she knows Derek would just flush and turn away.

 

Scott nuzzles the back of Derek’s neck, silent, encouraging.

 

In the darkness, Derek’s eyes glint, and he shifts to prop himself up over her, one big, steady hand grasping loosely at the bend of her knee. “I have something I’ve been wanting to give you,” he says, almost too quiet for her to hear.

 

“Do it,” breathes Scott, like he knows what’s happening here, and Allison wonders what they’ve been talking about when she's not around.

 

Then Derek braces himself over the stretch of her legs, muscles beautifully fluid as he kneels, dark head dipping between her thighs.

 

Allison sucks in a shaky breath, holding herself still in the moment Derek takes to collect himself, and then his head drops and he presses a firm, open-mouthed kiss right between her legs.

 

“You smell so good,” he rumbles. Beside them, Scott groans.

 

Allison feels light-headed, her body flushing with heat. She spreads her thighs, and Derek repeats the action, his mouth hot on her. She bites back a gasp.

 

She looks up at him and his eyes are shadowed. “Scott said you like it,” he says. “Can I?”

 

Allison nods, stunned. “If you want. Only if you want.”

 

“Please,” says Derek.

 

“ _Yes_ ,” says Allison. “Okay.”

 

“Merry Christmas,” murmurs Scott dreamily.

 

“Yeah,” laughs Allison.

 


End file.
